Revisiting Old Grounds
by Catherine Pugh
Summary: Peggy and Ted have been maintaining an icy, if cordial relationship since his meltdown at work. Finally the opportunity comes to confront their problem one-on-one.


"Thank you," said Peggy Olson politely, taking the train ticket from the clerk. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked toward the waiting lounge to wait for her train to arrive at Grand Central. She had about an hour to kill before it arrived, so she got some coffee and a cherry danish from the vendor as a snack before the ride.

She'd been looking forward to this brief solo trip to Philadelphia. Even though the distance was only an hour and a half, it felt freeing to be able to just get away from the city for a weekend. She'd just sold the building she'd bought, and she had to wait three days before she could move into her new flat. She'd taken quite a financial hit – but at this point she didn't care, as long as she wasn't accidentally stabbing anyone or witnessing attacks in her front lawn. The West 80s were off her list for good.

She shifted her feet and polished off her cherry danish, glancing here and there at the ever-clicking schedule board. Her train was going to be twenty minutes late. Damn. She always got to the station too early.

Things at work had been stilted since Ted had his meltdown over their relationship in the office a month ago. He was very professional, pleasant and distant toward her, especially at meetings. She tried putting it in the back of her mind, take her own advice, and move forward, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Ted and Don were at each other's throats, and with Stan visiting his aunt, she didn't even have a buffer. She felt alienated.

After months of working with no break, and now a major personal transition, she almost didn't know what to do with herself. Freedom felt unfamiliar.

At least she wasn't at Penn Station.

The old Beaux Arts building had been so beautiful. She used to go there sometimes with her father when she was little, and in her five-year-old mind, it felt like a palace, with all the ladies in hats and heels. She hated what they were doing to Penn Station now, and she felt a twinge of guilt every time she remembered that the contractor who destroyed it had been one of their clients. She avoided walking anywhere near 34th, to keep from seeing the gaping hole where her memories were now buried. She preferred to remember things as they were.

She sat down on a bench and watched the people bustling by. Forty-five minutes before arrival. She crossed her legs and shut her eyes for a couple of minutes, taking in the smells and sounds of her fellow travelers, thinking about Pop.

Something broke her peace as abruptly as a softball shattering a window. Her heart began to pound.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of a high, friendly voice talking to the ticket clerk. She couldn't miss that sound even if she tried. And there he was, across the room, clutching a suitcase and a danish, nodding and smiling at the shoeshine man. Suddenly, he caught Peggy's eye.

"Hello, Peggy," said Ted, chipperly. He sat down next to her and started eating his own danish. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello," she replied politely, feeling her face get hot. "Just getting out of the city for the weekend until I can move into my new place. I'd been staying at my mother's, and, well…"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. So, you were you able to find something?"

Peggy nodded, taking a sip of her cooling coffee. She was grateful that the conversation was pleasant, but she worried that she might sound stilted. She took in a deep breath.

"Yes, it sold for three grand less than what I purchased it for, but the plus side is, I have a much better realtor this time around. I learned my lesson: the right realtor is key." She smiled wanly. "Where are you headed?"

"Philly, to meet with George Roberts from Tastykake," Ted replied, sighing. "I would have flown down, but the plane is being serviced."

"Oh," Peggy said. "That's where I'm headed."

Ted brightened. "You want company on the trip?"

Actually, Peggy's stomach lurched at the thought of it. Now she was stuck alone with Ted for at least an hour and a half, and the thought currently made her regret that danish. She shrugged her shoulders and focused on the schedule board. The train now ran ten minutes late. "Sure," she said lamely.

"You look like you haven't slept in weeks," was all he could say.

Peggy looked up and finally met his eyes. There was a sad sincerity to them, pleading with her to understand. He had no idea that she had been down this road before.

"I know you've been sleeping in your office," he said gently.

_Dammit. How did he know? _She thought. She felt her face redden. It had been true that she'd been staying at Ma's, but after two weeks of the constant bullying and "I told you so's" from both Ma and Anita, Peggy couldn't take much anymore. She kept a few overnight bags at the office, and crashed on the sofa every night.

"Oh. Sorry about that. I just…" she mumbled, feeling her face redden. She didn't think anyone knew about that except Phyllis.

"I…I saw the overnight bags and pillows on your sofa when I dropped off a memo the other morning, and put two and two together. It's alright, Peggy. Don't worry about it," he said. "I understand."

Really, he didn't, she thought. Maybe about Abe, but not about the clear and present danger, living in that shit factory. He didn't hear women screaming outside his window, or know that she'd shoved a knife straight into Abe's stomach. He didn't know about the junkie or the human feces in her hallway. She felt increasingly worked up and decided she had to stand up, move, anything. She did know that she didn't have the energy to continue the conversation.

"I'm so tired, Ted," she croaked, getting up to throw away her coffee cup in the garbage.

The conductor blew his whistle and announced that their train would be boarding. They got up and walked toward Gate 10, showed their tickets, and boarded the Philadelphia train.

The seats were packed, so even if Peggy had indicated that she didn't want Ted to sit with her, she didn't have much choice anyway. He graciously let her have the window seat and put her items in the stowaway above them. He took the seat beside her and leaned back, opening the newspaper. They were in the last row, so it was nice to be able to recline as far back as they wanted. Peggy stared out the window as the train rolled out of the city. She enjoyed the view of the city retreating as the train barreled ahead, to another city, another environment. And still with Ted beside her. Just her luck.

His very presence so close to her made her body feel hot; her heart pounded inside her chest. She hated that she felt this nervous. Best not to make a further fool of herself, and to keep focusing on the trees and houses and factories as the train rushed past.

Halfway to Philadelphia, Ted finished the paper and nudged her in the arm.

"Peggy,"

"Hmm?"

"You're so far away."

The sound of his voice was so sad and resigned. She slowly turned her head around and faced him. For a second, she wanted to cave in and explain to him how she felt, but decided it was best for both to refrain from doing so. She just nodded and leaned back in her seat, fighting back tears.

Ted saw her face crumple and didn't know what to do. He put his hand over hers for a brief moment, excused himself, and walked toward the café car. He remained there for a good fifteen minutes, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He returned with a little cardboard holder containing two cups of coffee.

"Peace offering?" he asked, resigned but hopeful.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, as he handed it to her. Milk and sugar. He remembered.

"Ted, you didn't have to do this," she began, as he waved his hand dismissively and and shook his head.

"My pleasure," he replied. "You just looked like you could use some."

Peggy nodded and sipped from the cup. Much better than the train station's slop. They began a conversation about the Tastykake account and ended up enjoying the rest of the ride together. Ted talked about his plane, and Peggy talked about her move out of the West 80s and into a nicer place, and how annoying her sister Anita was. Ted laughed, trying to picture these two awful women. Peggy must have taken more after her dad.

Ted told her about his own bullying older brother, Michael, and how he used to pick on Ted for being so small. He'd never really talked about that with anyone before, and it felt pretty good to get it off his chest.

"Where are you staying?" Ted finally asked.

Peggy's heart skipped a beat when he asked the question.

"Bridesburg. I should probably visit Aunt Maggie tonight. She'll be upset otherwise."

Ted looked at Peggy incredulously in that annoying way of his, and pulled at his tie.

The conductor walked up and down the aisle, announcing the train would soon be arriving in Philadelphia. Ted pulled out Peggy's belongings and wrote his hotel number on his card.

"You can reach me here, if you need anything," he said. "I'll be staying at the Bellevue-Stratford. Now that we're talking again, let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night."

"I don't know," she began, but seeing his face fall, she changed her mind. "Alright, you know what - I'll take you up on some lobster."

Ted grinned. "Great. Should I have a driver pick you up?"

"That ought to turn a few heads," she laughed, writing Aunt Maggie's number on her own card. "But I can just take a cab. Don't worry about it," she added. Her aunt would blab to her mother about Peggy's extravagance if a Lincoln showed up to fetch her in that neighborhood. Or there would be talk of Mafia ties or something. No, best to just avoid that altogether.

They walked up the stairs and entered the 30th Street Station. Ted smiled as he looked over at Peggy admiring the angel statue. The station was beautiful, and reminded her a little of the old Penn Station. She snapped out of it abruptly.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, I guess," she said.

"Yes," Ted said, hailing a cab for her.

"Sounds good." She waved and got in, and headed north.

The afternoon with Aunt Maggie was abysmal, and Peggy immediately regretted her choice. Her mother might have been pushy and nasty with her, but Aunt Maggie's topic of choice in conversation consisted solely of her health crises. Bunions, lumbago, that bone-shaking cough of hers – all of them fair game. The bakery down the street made a nice babka, but Peggy was swiftly losing her appetite with each excruciating boil description. By 5:00 she was positively ready to scram. All she knew was that she could not spend her free weekend in her aunt's miserable company. Unfortunately, she couldn't really afford a hotel at the moment until the transaction for the apartment went through.

The cot wasn't horrible in the guest room, but even in early September the heat was stifling. It was now a sewing room, and Peggy currently found herself sleeping amongst a giant pile of Aunt Maggie's quilting squares and piles of fabric. Another miserable night.

The phone rang around four PM the next evening. Aunt Margaret went into the hallway and answered the phone. She yelled into the dining room.

"Peggy, it's a man calling for you. Says his name is Mr. Chow. He a Chinaman or something?"

"No, Aunt Maggie. That's my boss. He's Irish, like you. C-h-a-o-u-g-h."

Maggie eyed her suspiciously as she handed over the receiver. "What the hell kinda name is that?"

Peggy answered. "Hello," she said. "Sorry about that," she whispered.

Ted laughed. "Don't worry about it, I know how Philadelphians are. I'm calling about reservations. How's seven o'clock, Bookbinders? You can have all the lobster you like."

"Okay."

Peggy joined Aunt Maggie, who was presently helping herself to another piece of babka. She called a cab; one arrived ten minutes later.

"Well, Aunt Maggie, my boss says I have to go back to New York for an emergency meeting."

"At NIGHT? What the hell kind of job do you have?"

"Advertising keeps strange hours, Aunt Maggie. I'm often there until 3 AM every night working. We never know when clients are ready to show up."

"Oh, okay. You career girls. Can't even be bothered with family."

"It was really nice to see you. And thank you for the babka."

"You didn't eat any of it."

"Well, thank you just the same," Peggy said, gritting her teeth slightly. "I'll say hi to the family for you," she promised.

"If I'm not dead by the time you get there," Aunt Maggie replied curtly.

Peggy tossed her belongings in the cab and headed back downtown. She really did have no plan and very little money on her, but she felt reckless – desperate – enough to get away from her awful aunt. She was going to feel a little silly walking into a nice restaurant with a train case instead of a purse, but she didn't have much choice. She decided the smartest course of action would be to walk into a hotel and change in the restroom. She selected a smart little yellow shift dress with matching hat and pumps, suitable for a nice dinner out.

At 6:50 she hailed a cab to Bookbinders. She arrived there ten minutes late, carrying her train case.

"Sorry about that," she said, a little sheepishly. "I miscalculated the traffic."

"No problem," he said, sipping a glass of wine and eyeing the train case. He decided not to comment. "Don't look now, but I am pretty sure I see Elizabeth Taylor," he whispered, discreetly pointing behind Peggy. Peggy's eyes went wide as she slowly turned around and saw Liz chatting with some gentlemen friends at a booth in the back. She laughed a little and took a sip of water.

"You look fantastic," Ted said, in a voice that made Peggy's heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," she replied politely, placing her napkin on her lap. They ordered a few minutes later.

The dinner was pleasant and chatty, and they enjoyed people-watching at the restaurant. Elizabeth Taylor walked right past them on her way to the bathroom. Peggy found this very impressive.

Two bottles of wine later, after a lovely dessert of blueberry lemon cake, Ted offered to hail her a cab back to Bridesburg.

"Well, I actually…" Peggy faltered.

"You actually what?"

"I'll probably just go back to Brooklyn on the night train."

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire? I put two and two together when I saw you carrying a train case instead of a clutch. C'mon, Peggy, this is supposed to be your vacation. What happened?"

Peggy explained her situation. Ted excused himself after a few minutes, ostensibly to use the men's room, and came back a few minutes later.

"Look," he said finally, polishing off the last of his cake, "This isn't right, Peggy. You need a good night's sleep."

Peggy's shoulders slumped. He was right, of course.

"I just reserved a room for you at the Bellevue-Stratford for two nights. I hate seeing you miserable like this."

"Ted…I don't know what to say," she said, stunned.

"Well, hopefully you can say 'I had a great night's sleep for once!' on the train ride back," he replied, cheerfully. "I have to meet with Tastykake tomorrow. Hopefully we can have a drink at the bar afterward to celebrate."

"You'll be fine," she replied.

Ted had gotten her a comfortable, but not extravagant room at the other end of the hotel. She hated to admit it, but he was absolutely right: a touch of luxury really made a difference. She plonked down on the bed and its softness wrapped around her like a hug. Obviously these sheets were high thread count.

The afternoon was another pleasant one. Peggy enjoyed a nice day to herself, visiting the art museum and the Franklin Institute, feeding the pigeons. She loved the nice weather. Moreover, she loved being able to enjoy herself without Abe making tiresome comments about museums being tax write-offs for the wealthy. Philadelphia had a much different feeling than New York. She took a walk, snapped some pictures with her little Instamatic, and rested at the fountain.

That evening she was at her desk toweling off her hair, fresh from a shower, when there was a knock on the door. She opened it a little, and saw Ted standing in the hallway. He looked upset.

"Ted? Are you okay?" She opened the door. Ted tried to keep his breath from hitching when he saw Peggy, her hair wrapped in a towel and swaddled in a robe. He'd never seen her so intimate before.

"It's over, Peggy."

"What's over?"

"I didn't get the account."

"Oh," she replied, adjusting the towel on her head. "Oh dear," she repeated, not knowing what to say.

"I know it's not a huge account, but I still feel defeated. They're going with a more local agency instead."

"Come on in, Ted. I'll fix you a drink," she said. "I think I have red wine and tonic water, if you want an Old Spanish."

"Bless you."

He sat on the bed, and ran his hands over his face.

He spent the next ten minutes explaining the story to Peggy, who understood and listened sympathetically. She fixed herself a drink and sat down next to Ted as he continued the story, sipping on his drink. She'd fixed it very strong by accident.

"Wow, this is…whew," Ted laughed, draining the glass. "You know how to mix them."

"Well, sort of," she replied. "It's really the wine doing the talking, there. It's pretty strong. Spanish wine. Not Blue Nun. I wanted to thank you for the room. I finally got a good night's sleep for the first time in months."

All of a sudden, Ted put his hand on Peggy's knee. She froze, then he gently took it off. She shook her head no.

"I'm sorry," said Ted, realizing his mistake. He hadn't meant anything, at least not on purpose. It was as if his hand had operated on its own accord.

"We need to talk about this," she said simply. "You really hurt me, Ted. I'm sorry I came barging in your office like that, the day everything happened, but…this isn't a game. I needed a friend."

Peggy took another sip of her rye rocks as he buried his face in his hands in embarrassment.

"Peggy, what I told you that day was no joke. I have feelings for you. I don't want to, and it scares me. I've been trying to ignore them, but it's haunting my dreams. I yelled your name in my sleep. Nan was furious. I was sent to the guest room."

"Ted," she started, but Ted shook his head.

"I've never found myself wanting to leave Nan," he continued. "I've been fairly content the way things were between us. That retreat back in December was a marriage-strengthening thing that she thought might be a good thing. But the whole time I was there, my thoughts kept drifting to you. And the fifteen phone calls didn't help."

Peggy hung her head and explained that Burt Peterson had been harassing her to find him all that evening. Ted smiled weakly and said he realized it wasn't her fault. He stood up and paced back and forth.

"I'm sorry, Peggy, the idea that I'd have feelings for anyone else but my wife has me frightened. And with everything going on in my life for the past few months – losing my best friend, the merger – it's all a huge change for me."

Peggy slowly got up and fixed herself another drink. She stood there over the bar cart, staring at the ice bucket as Ted continued.

"I don't mean to hurt you or lump you into this. I know that most men can seemingly leap into affairs and not worry about the consequences. But as much as I have daydreamed about you, and wanted to do that, I simply can't take one more change with that kind of risk. Please don't take this the wrong way, but…I love you, Peggy."

Suddenly her resolve broke and she burst out sobbing. Ted sat there a minute, in shock, watching Peggy's strong façade absolutely crumble in front of him. He didn't know what to do, so he got up and walked over to her, putting his hands squarely on her arms. He looked tenderly in her eyes.

"I love you," she croaked.

The wall of Jericho crashed down.

Before either knew it, the two of them were kissing so passionately they both thought they would melt. As the kiss deepened, their breaths quickened, and their tongues began to intertwine, Peggy felt herself completely enveloped against Ted's slight body. His hands explored her up and down her back, surrounding her hips.

"Peggy," he whispered back, kissing her face, her neck, her throat, running his tongue along her earlobes, repeating her name over and over. She shivered with desire, answering him by repeating his name as she mimicked his movements. They hungered for each other like nothing before. Suddenly, eyeing the bed behind them, he stood back, fearful of what he had just done.

Ted stepped back and stroked her cheek with his hand, wiping the tears from her face.

"We've already gone too far," she said quietly. Ted suddenly started to choke back his own tears.

He stroked her hair. "You have no idea how badly I want to make love to you in that bed, Peggy Olson."

"I might," she replied breathlessly. "But you have to go."

Ted's own eyes welled up with a combination of longing and regret. "I'm sorry. I am truly sorry."

"We can't keep doing this, Ted. I can't feel this way about you, and be punished because you feel threatened or ashamed. This happened to me before."

He looked at her quizzically, then held her against him in a strong embrace. She sobbed against his chest as he kissed her hair gently and murmured, "I know. I'm sorry." Over and over.

Peggy put her hand to his cheek and gently released herself from him before things flared up again, suddenly self-conscious that her kimono's sash had come undone during their kiss. Ted swallowed and shut his eyes when he caught a glimpse of the swell of her breast before shutting her robe tightly around her.

"The way things are now, Ted, this cannot happen. I can't ask you to leave your wife, but I'll be damned if I continue to feel like the other woman."

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"I appreciate what you've done for me this weekend. I really do."

"I just want you to be happy," he said sadly, as he picked up his briefcase and walked toward the door. "I think that's all anyone wants. Your room is paid for, so no need to worry. I'll see you on Tuesday. Have a safe trip back, Peggy."

He closed the door behind him.

Peggy burst into tears and dove under the covers until she had cried herself to sleep.

Across the building that night, when no one could see him or judge him, Ted Chaough also cried himself to sleep.


End file.
